


Full of Surprises

by tatterwitch



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Sub!Dean, dom!reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-17
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-03-01 20:29:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2786666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatterwitch/pseuds/tatterwitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Imagine Dean thinking you're shy and soft-spoken and naturally submissive...Until he gets you into bed.<br/>Imagine finding out that Dean is surprisingly submissive in bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Two prompts that I just couldn't help combining. I hope you enjoy, darlings <3

Your rings tapped against the glass of the beer bottle you rolled between your fingers.

It was a night for celebration. You and the Winchesters had finally brought down the witch coven that had been raising hell in the small town. After a day of rest and getting patched up, Dean had insisted that the three of you hit up the bar in town.

So you sat at the bar, legs tangled around the stool's legs. Your knees peeked through the ripped material of your jeans as your boots swung above the floor. Your jacket was slung over the chair back. After your fourth beer, it'd gotten too warm to wear. The black lace-edged tank top you wore showed off your arms and shoulders as well as the tattoo over your heart.

You could feel the patron's eyes on you. You weren't used to the attention. Heat crept its way up your neck and tingled in your cheeks. To distract yourself, you raised your beer and polished it off. The alcohol slid down your throat with a vaguely bitter edge. The glass bottle gave a hollow sound as you smacked it down. The baretender arched a brow at you. You held up a single finger and nodded.

Within the next minute, a fresh bottle was before you. Condensation beaded on the cool brown surface. You wiped the moisture away with a fingertip before wrapping your lips around the mouth of the bottle. As you tilted your head back, your eyes found none other than Dean Winchester.

Heat rippled through your body and settled low in your belly. Dean was on the side of Sam's seat. His arms were propped atop the bar, one hand wrapped carelessly around his own beer. His hair was a little mussed and his lower lip caught between his teeth before his tongue crept out to swipe over the skin there. Green eyes fairly gleamed with want as they seemed to stare at you.

_Holy mother of Christ_.

You took a second to discreetly glance around yourself. Surely there was another woman who'd caught his attention. Nope. The only female patron at the bar was you. With a swiftly indrawn breath, you twirled the bottle between your palms and chanced another look at the older Winchester.

Dean caught you looking again. His lips eased up and his teeth flashed in the dim lighting of the bar. With a casual ripple of muscles, the hunter stood from his seat. With a few steps, he was at your side, sliding onto the stool beside your's. His knee pressed against your own and his arm slung over the back of your chair.

Your heart abruptly became a caged bird inside your chest. It beat rapidly like it was trying to take flight. Your lips parted around a shuddering breath as Dean leaned in close. His breath teased the skin of your ear. As always, the possibility of intimacy had your excitement flaring to life. Heat trickled through your veins as you slowly lifted your eyes to his.

"You've got that look." The words were low and hushed as you murmured them.

Dean's eyes flickered as he leaned closer. "What look?"

You copied his earlier movement with your teeth and tongue, nipping at your lower lip. His eyes followed the action and he shifted on the stool. You crooked your finger at him. He bent close, placing his ear level with your lips.

"You want me, Dean. Almost as much as I want you." Your voice was husky as his hand landed low on your back.

The hunter's body shuddered and then he was on his feet, pulling you off of your bar stool and snatching your jacket. Sam looked up from his beer before hurriedly ducking his head again. Dean slapped a few bills down on the bartop. His arm wound around your waist.

Cool air kissed your skin and then your back met rough brick. Warm breath tickled your cheeks as Dean leaned in close, his mouth mere inches from your own. You glanced around, spotting a few patrons smoking at the other end of the parking lot. Placing a hand flat on Dean's chest, you pushed gently.

"Not here, not yet." With a soft groan, Dean fairly dragged you across the lot to the motel.

You fumbled the key from your back pocket as hands roamed down your back and sides to cup your ass. Hot kisses were pressed into the nape of your neck as you pushed the door wide.

 

 

Dean's body was hot with want.

Y/N had been a constant fantasy...Always at the edge of his mind.

Her lips wrapped round that beer bottle had had him shifting uncomfortably on his bar stool. And when her eyes had lifted and met his? Goner. She had bedroom eyes, Y/N did. They gleamed in the dim lighting and elicited all sorts of naughty thoughts. Hell, everything about her elicited all sorts of naughty thoughts. Her lips, her hands, her hips and ass, her long legs and booted feet, her mussed hair and pinked cheeks.

She had always seemed so shy and reserved, never speaking much unless she really had something to bring to the table. She was a great hunter, though. Her skill and strength and aggression had left Dean with a hard-on more times than he could count.

Dean had imagined what it would be like with Y/N so many times. His mind was fairly buzzing as his fantasies became reality.

Y/N tossed her keys and jacket onto the table by the door. She kicked her boots off and then, with a graceful lunge, was on him. Dean's back collided with the bed. Y/N's knees rested on either side of his hips as one of her hands carded through his hair. Her lips were soft and tasted sweet.

He cupped her ass in his hands and pulled her down as he bucked his hips up. Blissful friction had him groaning into her mouth. Slight hands wrapped around his wrists and she placed his hands on her sides. Dean wasn't having that, though.

The third time he ground her down on his cock, Y/N's hands pulled his arms over his head. Something cold encircled his wrists. A faint click sounded. Dean pulled at the cool metal, glancing up at the headboard. Handcuffs nipped at his skin as Y/N released him.

Her voice was husky as she bit at his lower lip. "You gotta behave, Dean."

_Holy_. _Shit_.

Y/N was even hotter than his fantasies of her. He'd never admit it, but being trapped like this...Heat pooled low in his gut.

Y/N bent, trailing her lips down his throat. She paused over his chest, lips hovering over a flat nipple as her eyes flicked up to his. Very slowly, she lowered her head. Her teeth scraped over his nipple. Dean's back arched as he groaned loudly. Her tongue soothed over the sting before she repeated the actions on the second. He had to touch her...

The cuffs rattled as Dean tried to reach for Y/N. "Please, I have to see you, have to touch you." His voice sounded like he'd been running a marathon.

Y/N smiled sinfully, rising to her knees and curling her fingers in the hem of her tank top. The material was raised oh, so slowly, inch by inch. The sight of her breasts confined in a black bra, the anti-possession tattoo lovingly inked over one plump curve, had his hips jerking beneath her's. She reached back, breasts pushing forward as she released the clasp. The straps slid to her elbows. One slim arm came up and kept the black material trapped against her skin.

"Let me see you." Dean commanded.

One brow raised as she rested her free hand on her hip. "Ask nicely."

_Holy Christ_. "Please," Dean amended.

With a sultry smile, Y/N let the bra slide from her grasp. One tightened nipple peeked from between her fingers. He groaned again, trying to reach for her, touch her, anything. Y/N frowned, fingers smoothing over his arms. Her breasts dragged over his chest, making him hiss with pleasure.

"Careful, Dean, I don't want you hurting yourself." Her head tilted slightly as one hand traced the ridges of his hips. "We better have a safe-word for you, just in case."

Safe-word? Oh, God. This was _sooo_ much better than any fantasy he'd ever had.

Y/N pressed a kiss against his lips. Her tongue tangled sweetly with his, at odds with her domination and sensuality. When she pulled away, her lips were reddened and parted. Her pupils were blown and pink stained her cheeks.

"Your safe-word is Impala, okay?" She sounded breathless.

Dean nodded.

"Say it back, Dean, so I know you understand."

Dean swallowed thickly. "Impala. Now please touch me."

 

 

You were driving Dean wild.

You could see it, feel it, taste it. It was in the way his body moved restlessly beneath your's. It was in the way his lips were parted around stammering breaths. It was in the way his body became slicked with a fine sheen of sweat. His eyes were dark, the pupils ringed by a thin circle of green.

You began working on his belt, pulling at the metal and leather. The zipper of his jeans parted with a raspy whisper. You parted the halves of the fly and pressed a kiss to the strip of bare skin and the band of his boxers. His hips bucked as he made a hot sound in the back of his throat. You hooked your fingers in the layers of cloth and pulled, dragging them down his thighs and legs ever so slowly. And, _oh, my_. Was he _big_.

Pure, undiluted lust punched hard and low as you leaned off of the bed to remove your own jeans. You made a show of it, ever so gradually easing the denim down past your calves before stepping out and climbing back onto the bed. His skin jumped as you peppered open-mouthed kisses across and over his torso. The muscles of his stomach bunched as you ran your tongue around his navel. Your hands coasted up his thighs. Very lightly, you traced a finger up the side of his shaft.

Dean choked out a noise as his hips jolted. Your fingers encircled the base of his erection, lifting him to your lips. A bead of moisture glistened at the slit. You daubed at it with your tongue, closing your eyes at the tang of salt. Your lips ghosted over the veins and ridges, tongue tracing and flickering teasingly. The headboard was squeaking and the cuffs were rattling by the time you finally wrapped your mouth around the head of his cock.

Dean shouted hoarsely, a string of curse words that had you smiling against his skin. He stretched your jaw, the action faintly burning as you pressed your tongue against his skin. His was arching, writhing, doing everything in his power to try and thrust into you mouth.

You could feel the tension in his muscles, the way his body coiled as his climax neared. Just as his lips parted, you curled one fist around his base, clenching your fingers tight. The hold staved off his orgasm...And had him panting as he growled your name.

Again, you took him between your lips. Again, you drove him high. Again, you prevented his climax. And once more you repeated the actions. Dean was arching his back, the headboard was positively groaning and the cuffs were making red marks in his skin.

His teeth were bared and his eyes were locked on your face. "Please, please, please, _fuck_!" He cursed, trying to follow your mouth when you pulled away.

"What do you want, Dean?" You straddled his hips, keeping your fist locked tight around his cock. "Tell me, Dean."

Dean groaned as your sex slipped over his. "You. _Fuck me_ , Y/N."

You rolled your hips against his and shook your head. "You didn't ask nicely."

"Please, Y/N! _Please, fuck me_!"

With a moan, you positioned him against your opening and slowly sank down. Dean cried out, the cords in his throat standing out as his eyes slid shut. His hips bucked up the next time you slipped down his length. The motion had you gasping, one hand flattening on his chest. Your hips whipped as you rode him. He was perfect inside you. He hit every bit of you so damn perfectly. It all felt like the most rapturous bliss. No one had ever been this good.

 

 

Y/N felt like heaven around his cock.

She was hot and wet and the way she moved had him burning up. One of her hands rested against his chest as the other ran up to cup her breast. She tweaked at her own nipple, teeth digging into he lip as she let out a low moan. Dean thrust up, causing her to gasp again.

Her hands rose and tangled in her hair, piling it atop her head as her eyes slid shut and her head tipped back. Her body trembled as her hips rolled. Those Y/E/C eyes flashed open.

" _Come for me, Dean_."

The burgeoning tension in his body finally snapped.

Dean's hips jerked as a long, low groan left his lips. His orgasm ripped through him. It was so strong he swore he heard the friggin' angels singing a hallelujiah chorus as pleasure burned through his veins. And then Y/N shouted his name as her sex clamped down on his and rippled. And he'd be damned if there wasn't another wave of his orgasm following her loud cry.

Y/N fell over his chest, breasts meshing with his skin as her fingers deftly unlocked the cuffs. When both hands were free, Dean wrapped his arms around her frame. Y/N pressed tiny little kisses into his jaw, neck, and chest as she whispered praise into his skin.

"I didn't overwhelm you, did I, Dean?" Her voice was husky from her cries.

Dean grinned. "Are you kidding me? Don't get me wrong, I had no idea you were so...Dominating. But, wow. Even better than my fantasies."

A flush of pink stained her cheeks as she met his eyes. "You fantasized about me?"

She was such a conundrum. One minute sweet and shy, the next a sex vixen, and then back. Dean loved it.

"Hell _yes_."

A tiny grin lifted her lips as her eyes sparkled. "So you'd be up for another round in the future, huh?"

Dean's body hummed at the mere thought. "Count me in, Y/N."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the nonnie who requested more so sweetly <3
> 
> "Oh god. Give me a second part to 'full of surprises', please? It was god damn perfect. Your writing is flawless."

The punching bag squeaked as it spun and lurched.

Dust motes flew, swirling up in pale eddies that caught the light. The mats beneath your feet dipped slightly with every shift of your weight. Your knees were bent, hands in front of you as you tracked the swinging of your target. The leather of the bag bit at your knuckles as you lashed out. The chains squealed.

Anger was a hot thing that breathed fire into your belly and lungs. All you could see was that demon coming at you. And then Dean, stupid, self-sacrificing Dean Winchester, had shoved you out of the way and intercepted the knife meant for you.

Another burst of rapid-fire punches had the bag spinning wildly. God, you'd seen Dean get injured before. Hell, it was practically routine for you and the boys to come back from a hunt with at least a few dings and scrapes. But no one had ever taken a hit for you. Ever. And that blow hadn't been a little graze of a blade, either. No, the knife had cut down to the bone of Dean's shoulder. The tip had gone through to the other side.

Of course, he'd been all, ' _Come on, Y/N, I've been in tougher scrapes than this_ '. Which had not helped you _at all_.

Once back at the bunker, you'd refused to let Sam patch Dean up. You did it yourself, forcing your shaking hands to remain still so the stitches would be clean and straight and even. But the sight of that knife in his skin...His blood dripping down and staining the ground...

With an angry cry, you swung your leg up. The chains screamed as they finally gave. The bag dropped to the mats with a loud smack before rolling into the wall. You stood there, head bowed and teeth bared in a scowl. Sweat ran down your neck as your chest heaved. There was a soft shuffling noise behind you.

"Sam's not gonna like that he'll have to string that up for you again." The familiar low voice had butterflies swarming in your stomach.

Your shoulders jerked as your spine snapped straight. You didn't bother to turn around.

The bag's weight created a pleasant burn in your muscles as you lifted it and slung it into a chair. One of your knuckles was split, the skin weeping scarlet. You carelessly wiped it over your sweatpants.

There was a heavy sigh. "Y/N, come on. It's been a whole day. You've gotta talk to me eventually."

No, no, you did not. Maybe you'd let him stew for another day. Served his righteous ass right.

Boot-steps crossed the concrete floor, becoming muffled by the mats as Dean approached. You pivoted on one heel, finally facing him.

Dean's brows were drawn up, a tiny crease formed between them. Misery glinted in his eyes. There was a shallow cut on one cheek, a tiny slice at the very corner of his lips. The sleeve over one shoulder was padded, gauze and tape peeking out from the hem. The sight of him all rumpled and battle-scratched should not have turned you on. It really shouldn't have.

 

 

Dean had quietly crept into the bunker's training room.

Y/N had been avoiding him like the plague ever since the last hunt. Even when they were in the same room together she refused to speak to him. It was driving him insane. From the doorway, he'd watched her destroy the punching bag. For the third time in two days. The way she moved...Her knees were bent and her bare feet planted firmly on the mat. Her muscles tensed and coiled beneath her skin. Skin that Dean wanted to feel under his hands again.

Each punch was perfectly executed, not even a nanosecond of her movements were telegraphed. The way Y/N fought, it was like a dance. When she fought, it was almost as if she fell into a trance. The look of complete focus and promise in her eyes had a shudder running down Dean's spine.

There was one other time when Y/N got that look in her eyes. That night in the motel by the bar had played itself over and over in his head. And God help him if he didn't get hard every damn time that he remembered the way she'd gone down on him, the sounds she'd made, the way she'd ridden him, the way she'd driven him mindless until the only things he could think of were her and orgasm. He wanted... _Needed_ Y/N again.

Dean wouldn't be able to think straight until he had her again. Just then, she turned, finally facing him.

Her lips were thinned and her cheeks were flushed with color. Sweat made the skin of her neck and shoulders and chest glisten. Her arms crossed over her breasts, the action lifted them. Dean stifled a groan.

With an inward shake, Dean opened his mouth. "Please, say something, Y/N. What's with the silent treatment, huh?"

Those Y/E/C eyes flashed as she glanced away, teeth peeking out as she bit her lower lip. Her feet shifted on the mats.

Dean reached out, thumb and forefinger pinching her chin to turn her head back to him. One of her slim hands came up and encircled his wrist. Blood seeped from one split knuckle, the red staining her skin. Her eyes were wide and swam with so many things Dean wasn't sure if he could catch them all.

"Please tell me. I can't do anything about it if you don't tell me, Y/N."

Her chest rose in a shuddering breath. "What you did back there, taking that knife-"

"You would have done it for me." Dean's thumb feathered over her chin.

Fire leapt in her eyes as she jerked away from his hold. "If that blade had been a few inches to the left, you'd be taking a dirt nap, Dean. And for what?"

Dean's eyes narrowed. "For you."

Y/N made a sound and scowled. "That's a piss poor reason, Dean. I'm just some hunter chick who you like banging. What, so you were just gonna take that knife and die? What about Sam? Or Cas?"

Dean gritted his teeth. "You would have taken care of them both-"

"Goddammit, Dean! You're too damn good at sacrificing yourself! People here need you. You're not expendable!"

The words had his head snapping back like they'd been a slap.

"You need to promise me that if something like that comes up again, you'll stay clear. Or I'll come back and haunt your ass."

Dean swallowed. "I don't-"

Y/N stepped in close, eyes flashing and teeth bared. "Promise me, Dean."

"I promise," Dean finally ground the words out...Even though there was no way in hell that he'd try to keep it. Y/N wouldn't check out on his watch, not ever. Not if he had something to say about it.

Some of the tension in her shoulders seemed to ease. Then, she moved, hands flattening against his chest. Cool brick met his back through his shirt. His arm jostled slightly and he winced. He ignored the twinge.

Y/N went up on her toes as she hooked her fingers in the collar of his shirt. Her lips were hot against his. Dean groaned against her mouth as he brought his hand up to tangle in her hair. Their teeth banged together as her hand drifted down his chest. His belt buckle was yanked free and then her fingers were pulling at his zipper.

 

 

You were burning up.

Your skin was hot and tight. It was all you could do to keep from moaning when Dean's hand tangled in your hair and pulled your head back as his mouth coasted over the skin of your throat. Your hand slipped beneath the waist of his boxers.

Dean's head dropped against your shoulder when your fingers circled his cock. He groaned against your skin as you began sliding your grip up and down. His breath was hot and heavy and gusted over your skin. His light hair tickled your chin as his hand left your head. That hand didn't hesitate at the waist of your sweatpants.

You moaned as his palm cupped your sex. The roughened skin of his fingertips had you seeings stars. With a growl, you pulled away, keeping a hold on his shaft. You lead him over to the mats. And then, with a tug, you both tumbled down.

The rubber surface sighed beneath your combined weight. Hunger was a living, breathing thing that sends fire shooting through your veins. With an impatient twist, you removed your sweatpants and then began pulling Dean's pants to his knees. Your heart felt like it was going to burst from your chest.

Carefully, you threw one knee over Dean's head and brought your lips down to his cock. He was already hard, a bead of moisture waiting for your tongue. At the first lick, he groaned, loud and long. His hips jerked beneath your hands. Hot breath gusted over the folds of your sex. Dean's mouth was on you in an instant, tongue swiping deep as his fingers held you wide.

Your control began to slip from your grasp. Dean's every movement had your mind fogging.

One long finger slid into your opening and stirred, curling up and rubbing that spot inside. His tongue flattened over your clitoris as he created a blissful suction with his lips. You stood no chance...But neither did he.

 

 

_Jesus Christ_ , Y/N was so much more than perfect.

She tasted so good, the way she rocked her hips towards his face as he licked her up and down had his mind scrambling. Her mouth was hotter than a forge as she took him deep again. One hand stroked over his length as she hummed.

It was a challenge now. Who could make the other come first?

Dean bore down in the tiny sweet spot at the top of her sex, easing his finger inside her. Her hum turned into a full-fledged moan as she clamped down around him. Dean could feel his orgasm building, hot and insistent at the base of his spine. Resolutely, he added another finger and began mercilessly teasing that ridged spot within her. Y/N's body stiffened before clenching hotly around his fingers as she cried out.

" _Dean_!" Her slim hand tightened around the base of his cock. Her head canted back as she panted through her orgasm.

One of her hands reached back and removed his fingers from her sex. Shakily, she moved down, settling between his thighs. Her pupils were blown wide, her irises only a thin ring of color as she licked up the side of his shaft.

Dean groaned, thrusting up to meet her mouth. "Please, Y/N."

The vixen smiled, running the head over her lips. Long lashes fluttered as she shook her head.

"Beg me, Dean. What do you want?"

_Holy Christ_. "Touch me. Suck me. Anything!"

A pink tongue crept out and slipped over his slit, causing his hips to punch upward. "You didn't ask nicely."

Dean groaned again, half mad with the need to come. "Please!"

Satisfied, she descended once more. Her lips wrapped around the head as her tongue flattened against him. Suddenly, she pulled away, rising up and holding her palm over his mouth. Dean licked a hot stripe over the skin of her fingers and hand, eyes hopelessly locked with her's.

 

 

Dean was fairly crazed as you wrapped your wetted hand around his length.

His sweat-slicked chest heaved as his fingers dug into the rubber of the mat. His eyes were dark, the green of his irises near devoured by the black of his pupils. His lips were parted around stammering breaths. Teeth flashed white as his tongue crept out over his lower lip. His hips bucked into your fist.

God, he was more beautiful like this than anything you'd ever seen before. His back arched as you pumped his length mercilessly.

"Tell me who's doing this to you." Your voice was husky as you teased him.

"You," Dean groaned.

"Who makes you feel this good?"

"You. Only you."

A savage grin lifted your lips as you leaned down and pressed a kiss to his hip. "Who do I belong to, Dean?" The words had his hands cranking into fists at his sides.

"Me, you belong to me."

"And who do you belong to, Dean?"

His body trembled. "You."

You squeezed a little harder, denying his climax as his eyes slid shut. "Look at me."

Those eyes opened as he panted. "Say my name. Who do you belong to?"

The muscles in his stomach bunched. " _Y/N. I belong to Y/N_."

"Come for me, Dean. _Come for me_."

Dean shouted hoarsely as his body shuddered and his cock jerked in your grasp.

You leaned down, lapping up his pleasure as he gasped in air.

"Holy shit, _Y/N_. Oh, my God." Dean groaned as his hips uncontrollably bucked one last time.

You fell to his side, biting your lip as your cheeks reddened. Your fingers traced patterns over the skin of his chest as the two of you fought to catch your breath.

Dean snatched up your hand and pressed a kiss over the tips of your fingers. "We should have angry sex more often."


	3. Chapter 3

There was a set of warm lips pressed against Dean's skin, mouthing at the the corner of his jaw.

 _Fuck_. That was one of his spots; always made his nerves jump and his blood burn and his breathing speed up.

And, _shit_ , that had been a hint of teeth. Dean hummed, arching into the wet touches of tongue, teeth, and lips.

He could feel fingers tracing the dips and scars on his chest, the touch obstructed by the t-shirt he'd worn to bed.

Something warm and soft settled over his hips, rocking against his growing hard-on. Holy hell, this was one hell of a dream. And Dean hoped he got to the end, even if it meant he woke up with wet boxers and sticky skin. Those teasing lips moved from his jaw, sucking the lobe of his ear into a hot wet mouth before nibbling gently. Dean couldn't stop the groan of pleasure that worked its way out of his mouth.

There was a soft, breathy giggle, warm air tickling his wetted skin. He even felt the weight atop him shift with the small laugh.

Dean felt his mind starting to wake fully just as those wandering hands slid under the hem of his shirt. Nails lightly scraped down his chest, grazing his nipples and making him arch with another groan.

Shit, this had to be one vivid-ass dream-

Pleasure-pain burst behind his eyelids as teeth nipped at his ear and tugged.

Maybe this wasn't a dream at all.

Dean kept himself loose and pliant as he tried to get his lust-fogged and sleepy mind chugging along.

Another soft little sigh issued from above him, the weight over his hips dragging in a slow, careful grind that doesn't make it any easier to think. He cracked his eyes open the barest bit. It was still dark, but, through the thin curtains of the hotel's windows, the sun had just started to breach the horizon. The light was just enough that Dean could make out the shadow and shape draped over his body.

Well, well, well...What a little minx.

Dean carefully kept his body loose until the opportune moment to strike arrived.

With a low growl, he snapped his arms up and around the body above his. A surprised gasp greeted his ears as he yanked down with one arm and slapped a the bedside lamp. The hazy golden light revealed none other than Y/N straddled over his hips, cheeks flushed and eyes wide.

" 'Mornin', Y/N."

Those long lashes fluttered as her lips slowly eased up into a mischievous smile.

"Good morning, Dean. Did you sleep all right?"

Dean could still feel her warmth where she was sat over his hips.

 _Shit_. The woman gave him all sorts of ideas as she laid over him in one of his old shirts. He briefly wondered if she was wearing anything underneath.

"Was, least until I started having this amazing dream."

One of her brows arched and she pushed up, against his arms.

"Well, if you like, I can leave so you can get back asleep-"

What? No! Dean's arms tightened. And her grin returned, all cat-got-the-canary.

"No, no. The dream was great, but, uh, I think I like this better." Dean lifted his hips, making Y/N gasp when his dick rubbed between her spread legs. "Mhm. _Way_ better."

After Y/N got her wits back, she narrowed her eyes at him.

"It's a shame you didn't get to see how the dream ended, Dean."

Holy fuck. Dean almost swallowed his tongue. _Play it cool, Winchester_.

"Guess so. Boy, what a tragedy-"

Y/N's lips met Dean's, effectively cutting off anything he'd been planning to say. Dean hummed into the kiss, leaning up and unwrapping his arms so he could run his hands over her.

She was still sleep-warm, soft and curvy in places that made his head get foggy again. Her hair was mussed, locks tousled and wayward as she canted her head to kiss him better. Her kisses were sensual, teasing. She licked into his mouth and sighed when he pressed up, giving just as good as he got.

Dean tangled the fingers of one hand in her hair, pulling her closer to deepen the kiss. His free hand roamed down her back, over one thigh before coasting upward, under the hem of his shirt.

Oh, _fuck, yes_. No panties.

Dean growled into the kiss, fingertips pressing into the curve of her ass. He wanted that shirt off immediately. He wanted her bare, open, just as hot and hungry as he was. He grabbed at the hem.

In a move so quick his head spun, Y/N twisted herself free and had the t-shirt that had covered his chest in her hand. She sat up, hips coming flush with his and making his eyes damn near roll back.

Even in the dim, less-than-stellar light of the lamp and the dawn, Dean watched her darkened eyes rove over his bare chest. Her lower lip tucked between her teeth as she inhaled sharply. Dean felt his chest puff out a little and he gave her his best bedroom stare.

"Like what you see, Y/N?"

A saucy sort of smirk pulled the corner of her lips up.

"You know I do, Winchester." She rolled her hips pointedly.

Dean's breath exploded from him as he felt her, damp and hot, rub right over his dick. His back arched into the touch.

Shit. Y/N was damn near unparalleled in bed.

Every time they fell onto a mattress (or leaned against a wall or reclined in the back of the Impala), Dean knew that he was in for a wild ride. Every touch, every kiss, made his body sing with pleasure. He didn't doubt that Y/N had taken note on every single one of his sweet spots. She was a clever, cunning, relentless, confident woman. And that was a potent, heady combination that always made his head spin and his control slip.

Dean was toeing the thin line of losing control right then. And, shit, that was embarrassing considering Y/N had barely even touched him. He was hard, leaking into his boxers. Every one of her teasing, slow grinds against him only made it worse. Dean got off on it, knowing that, right then, she was in charge.

Y/N's lips trailed down his neck, pausing to map out his tattoo with her tongue. Dean shuddered out a breath when her teeth scraped over his nipples, tongue creeping out to soothe away the sting. His fingers hooked in the sheets, fists clenching when she nipped at his sides and dragged her nails over his skin.

Dean could only focus on where her mouth was, her tongue so hot and wicked it should have been fucking outlawed. Her lips traced all over the scars that flecked his torso and paid homage to all the places that made him lurch, grunt, and hum with pleasure.

He'd totally forgotten to pay attention to her hands.

Dean jolted, hips bucking up when one of her damned sneaky hands slipped beneath the band of his boxers and wrapped around his cock.

"Fuck!" His eyes shut tight before he pried them open, hands twisting in the sheets as she set up a slow rhythm.

"Y/N." Dean ground out, biting his lower lip when she flicked her wrist and ran her thumb over the head of his cock.

" _Fuck_ , Y/N." A long, strangled noise issued from deep in his throat.

Y/N's eyes fluttered.

"Hmm, Dean, I like that sound. Make it again."

Shit. Holy fucking shit. She did that thing with her fingers and hands again. Dean repeated the sound, smiling breathlessly when he watched her pupils gobble up her pretty irises further.

But Dean grew frustrated quickly.

Y/N kept switching up the rhythm just when he'd get the hang of it. He'd just get a good build-up of pleasure before she'd change, sending him back to square one. Dean let out a frustrated groan, thrusting his hips up to get his message across.

Y/N knew how to get him off, so why the fuck was she teasing him like that? Her tongue swirled around his navel and lightning streaked through his veins.

"Holy shit. Y/N, c'mon, I'm dying up here."

His words were reprimanded by a sharp nip to his hip.

"Behave, Dean. Bad boys don't get blow-jobs."

Oh, holy fucking shit. Y/N was gonna _kill_ him.

Her fingers hooked into his boxers and she tugged the material down inch by inch, peppering his bared skin with little kisses. She leaned away for a minute to toss the boxers aside. Dean took the time to spread his legs to give her room. He dick twitched when she lowered her gaze and fucking licked her lips.

Jesus Christ, was she actually trying to kill him?

Y/N tossed her head and lowered herself. Dean's eyes slid closed. He felt her tongue first, tracing hot, wet lines up and down his length before flattening and drawing up the underside. Then, her lips were wrapped around the head and her tongue was dancing over the tip. Y/N slid down after a moment, making Dean choke out a noise half-way between a whine and a moan.

Dean's head kicked back. Every nerve in his body lit up and sang with heat. Shit, he couldn't even watch right then. If he did, he was sure he'd lose it. Especially when hearing the sounds; dirty sucking noises, wet, lewd pops when she pulls off and licks at him, the muffled hums he can feel vibrate around his dick.

"Y/N, don't stop." Dean begged, knuckles whitening with his grip on the sheets. His breathing completely wrecked as his head moved from side to side.

"Please, please, please, don't stop. _Please, don't stop_."

It was too good, the sucking and licking, the feel of her mouth wrapped around his cock. He could feel his body tensing, stomach hollowing and thighs bunching as he tried to keep from fucking up into her mouth. Shit. He was close. Too close.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck. Y/N, close. Gonna come. _Fuck_!"

Y/N pulled back with a wet pop that had him groaning. Her hand slid up and down his slickened cock, squeezing tight and twisting around his base. Y/N reached up, gripping his chin between her fingers and pulling down so he had to meet her gaze.

"Come for me, Dean." Her voice was husky, her lips swollen and reddened and spit-slick.

Dean shivered, hips jerking as he got closer to the edge.

"Come for me, Dean. Be a good boy. Come."

Dean's lips parted around a wordless cry as his hips bucked up into her hand.

His eyes rolled back as his body shuddered, dick jerking in her grip as he came. Fucking _stars_ swirled behind his eyelids. His body fell back against the sheets, aftershocks rolling through him and making him quiver. He was sweaty, sticky and blissed out.

Y/N's fingers dabbled over his belly, drawing his gaze down. Those mischievous eyes met his as she swiped one fingertip through the mess on his skin.

"Look at what _I_ made _you_ do."

Dean snorted, watching as she whipped off the shirt she still wore (dammitt, he'd completely forgotten to get that off of her, shit) and cleaned him up with gentle touches.

Y/N settled into his side, curving her now-naked body into his. She kissed his shoulder and traced his jaw with her thumb.

"Thank you for letting me wake you up like that, Dean. You were so good. The best, even."

Dean felt the back of his neck warm.

"Yeah, well. Thanks, I guess." He skimmed one hand down her side. "Do you want me to give you a helping hand or-"

A saucy grin lifted her lips.

"Thoughtful sweetheart, aren't you. You're so good, Dean. But I did come."

That had Dean blinking. What? How-? She'd come untouched? Shit, that was hot.

Y/N's grin only grew.

"I'm a dom, Dean. I get off on dominating. And when I get to play with perfect people like you, well, it hits _all_ the right buttons."

Y/N kissed his chest sweetly, despite the way she'd purred those words.

Holy shit. The woman was one of the sexiest contradictions he'd ever met.

Dean silently thanked his rarely lucky stars that he'd met her and that she'd liked him well enough to...well.

Dean grinned at her.

"You know, I wouldn't mind being woken up like that more often."


End file.
